Scrapple! What is it? Is it some species of apple? Is it
industrial art? Even those who’ve eaten it might not know! Is it meatloaf? Is it
sausage? Is it a winged god, riding a chariot of dongs across the very sky? WHO
CAN TELL?
Scrapple is a traditional Pennsylvania Dutch dish that
combines extreme thrift with high fat cooking, making it very popular in all
parts of the country with traditional cooks. Anthropologically it is fascinating,
as it is technically a form of polenta, but with a presentation that would make
any Italian hemorrhage blood out of their eyeballs. As a flavor experience it
has more in common with German sausage dishes, with their numerous spicing
configurations and sometimes generous use of fillers, but the inclusion of corn
marks the dish as definitively post Colombian exchange, and most evidence
indicates it developed ingeniously in the Pennsylvania back country.
Enough Gibba Gabba! I had been researching scrapple and was intent upon making
it, but lacked most of the ingredients. You see, traditional scrapple is first
and foremost a pork dish, requiring generous quantities of pork organs and
bones. I do not have any of those, nor do I know where to find them. BUT I had
generous quantities of chicken parts, so I went with what I had. So I present
to you: Chicken Scrapple
Two chickens worth of bones
Two bags of chicken giblets
A chicken breast
Water from steamed broccoli
A cup of thyme
Half a head of garlic
Salt and pepper to taste
An onion
Two stalks of celery
A big carrot or two mediums
One or two cloves
A tablespoon of whole cumin
Some Franks Red Hot
2 cup corn meal
At least five cups of stock
Flour
butter
The first step is to make a stock. Get the bones of at least
one chicken, I used two, put them in water, and boil/ simmer for like a day.
This is easier if you have a crock pot, but you can just use an oven burner if
its all you have. Just use a big pot and make sure the bones are floating in a
generous quantity of water. There is no need to fill the pot, just make sure
the parts are submerged, or could be if they didn’t float. After a day or so,
taste the stock. It should kick you in the face like some kind of liquid,
chicken version of Chuck Norris. Add salt to taste, but you probably want more
than you think you want. As a rule of thumb aim for how commercial chicken broths
taste. You are unlikely to actually use as much salt as them, which is a good
thing, but salt will bring out flavors. Now is also a good time to add pepper. Once
the salt is dissolved, strain out the bones and return the stock to the pot.
I happened to steam some broccoli for a unrelated dish and
decided to reuse the water for this stage, but its prolly not necessary. Just
make sure you add a bit of water so nothing burns, and then add the chicken
organs from the giblet bags of two grocery store birds. Also toss in one
chicken breast. Simmer over night.
Get ye a food processor. Add any hard spices you are going
to use and powder their asses, the add in the onion, the celery, the carrots,
give them a whirl, then fish out the chicken parts from the stock and add them
to the food processor. Give that a blend, and then start to think about
spicing. I went with what I had and what seemed like it would taste good together
and the ingredients above are an approximation based on what I remember, but don’t
take it as gospel. Process everything together until it’s kind of a paste, then
add 1 cup of corn meal and process again until combine.
Pour the stock into a big bowl and return the pot to the burner.
Make sure it’s on the cleanish side. Add one cup of the stock back in, and
whisk together with one cup of corn meal until smooth, then put the whisk aside
and get a wooden spoon. Turn on the heat to medium, and add two cups of stock,
stirring continually. When all is combine, add the meat/corn/spice mixture and
stir stir stir. When that is fully incorporated, add two more cups of stock and
stir. Keep stiring. Make friends with stirring because you are gonna be doing
this for a while. Turn up the heat until you see bubbles breaking the surface
while you are still stirring, then reduce the heat to a high medium. You want
the bubbles to keep on with the surface and the breaking whilst you stir. And stir.
You are gonna be stirring for like 15 minutes. Just when you have ceased to
care about this dish you will keep stirring. When you have begun to understand
how a person could go through life as an alcoholic necrophiliac it will be time to resume
stirring. When you have begun to look fondly upon the entertainment value of
Star Trek: The Motion Picture you can take a short break. Ha! No, I’m kidding,
your gonna have to keep stirring. When your mind has merged with the cosmos,
just like the space baby in the ending of 2001: A Space Odyssey, you will be
ejected from the overmind so that you can resume stirring.
When the mixture starts to pull away from the side of the
pan you are done. Congratulations. All your friends and relatives will have
died, but you will be able to feed your grand children some delicious scrapple,
though they are going to have to wait a bit longer. Pour the mixture into a
loaf pan and allow to cool, then place in the refrigerator over night.
The next day, take the loaf pan and flip it over onto a
cutting board. Using your rage at the continued evil of the future, whack the
loaf pan until the scrapple drops onto the cutting board. Pour a bit of flour
onto a plate, melt some butter in a non-stick frying pan, and slice the
scrapple into half inch slices. For each piece drop it into the flour on each
side, then tap to remove the excess. Place the scrapple over a medium high heat
in the butter for five minutes per side or until golden brown and delicious.
There! You are done. The presentations are numerous, from on
a plate with some apple sauce to in a sandwich with sour crème and everything
in between. Enjoy it with your remaining descendants and remind them that even
in the future it is not polite to have your tentacles on the table, and stop
secreting waste at your sister.